


The Town of Weatherly -- ON HIATUS

by Zoey101



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beach House, Childhood Friends, F/M, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Memories, Walks On The Beach, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoey101/pseuds/Zoey101
Summary: Clarke Griffin was ripped away from her hometown almost a decade ago but now she's back. What will happen when she discovers her best friend's brother seems to have grown increasingly attractive over the years.A week by week account of falling in love with a crazy amount of things happening along the way.That's how she'd always remembered Bellamy. Black framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, sipping a can of soda while she and Octavia sat opposite him, listening intently as he told them stories about God's, The Minotaur and the occasional story about Cerberus.That's how he had remembered Clarke. A charcoal pencil tucked behind her ear and her lip getting excessively chewed by her teeth. Her signature, tatty and worn out overalls always storing a small journal in its front pocket while she stomped around in dark green combat boots that always seemed a little bigger than her feet needed.





	1. Day 1 Week 1

**Day 1 Week 1**

Her pale lips curved upward as she stood in front of the ever in motion ocean that lay in front of her. The white wash of a newly broken wave kissed the top of her toes, wiggling in anticipation for the next round to come. The water was cold, yet warmer than she had expected, easing her stress the second her feet were once again fully enveloped by the soft motion of the salt infused sea. A light breeze found its way through her golden locks, sending them floating softly out behind her as she turned her head to the wind. To her left the beach stretched another half mile before being cut off by an abundance of rocks that lay just below a jagged cliff surface. And to her right the beach continued further than she could see and if she walked far enough she'd pass a dozen beach houses before reaching the pier. But the pier meant people, and right now she wasn't in the mood for human interaction. 

Further down she could see a few lazy swimmers splashing and emerging from the shallows, but where she was right now was absolutely deserted. No one was here to disturb her and no one was here to annoy her. She was alone and she was happy, solitude was what she had been yearning for all day and finally she was about to get it. 

She gave a small smile to the blank horizon before retreating backwards and sitting herself comfortably at the bottom of the sand dunes where she had originally emerged from. This beach was her safe haven when she was younger. When her parents wouldn't stop screaming at one another she would find herself down here, art journal in lap and pencil in hand. Times were simpler back then, believe or not. She didn't have to worry about getting into med school, paying this months rent or dealing with her not so great track record when it came to stable relationships. She was allowed to do whatever the hell she wanted because her parents were essentially preoccupied with their divorce. Not that she ever did anything rash, she had never been one for the extreme. She'd usually disappear for a few hours, whether that be to the library, her best friends house or to this very beach. 

She was twelve, she was naive and she was free. But now she was twenty two and goddam tired of living up to her mothers expectations. That was why she was back; escaping the overwhelming urge to slap her mother every time that over controlling, hard to please woman spoke.

Now being here in her hometown almost a decade after she had last visited felt oddly comforting. Nothing had really changed all that much, well, from what she'd seen so far. She'd really only been here a measly two hours before deciding that unpacking could wait until later before slipping out the back door and finding herself where she was now. 

Clarke brought her knees closer to her chest when she felt the wind becoming a little colder and the sun starting to sink just a little lower in the sky. The waves were becoming a little calmer now, gently the kissing the shoreline before being pushed away, only to return with yet another kiss. That was one of the main things she loved about the beach. It was always in motion and it never stopped, similar to Clarke herself. Even if her body was still, her mind was always ticking. That was the thing about her though, whenever she tried to relax she'd always find ways to keep herself active. 

That's why she relied on art so much. It kept her hands busy, her mind happy and the occasional buyer overjoyed. She carefully pulled out her latest art journal which had already began falling apart and opened it to a work in progress. She had sketched a girl, her hair in an intricate side braid that was swept haphazardly to the right and eyes full of anguish. Her lips were in the midst of quivering, slightly parted and plump. And her nose was crinkled in that perfect and familiar way that she knew so well. 

Clarke dropped her eyes lower and focussed on the unfinished parts of the work. Chest bare, legs crossed and looking helplessly vulnerable. She flicked her pencil back and forth, shading the areas which needed the most attention and focussing to enhance the parts which she deemed necessary. It needed more. More depth. More context. But the more she drew the harder it was to find what she was looking for. It wasn't her lips, it wasn't her eyes and it wasn't her breasts. They were all the parts she had familiarised herself with. It was something that she couldn't quite remember which bothered her so much. 

She continued silently searching for another ten minutes before she was interrupted by a ball of fluffy terror. A dog, quite large and panting raced towards her before sniffing her intently and proceeding to lick her face in eagerness. Clarke let out a small gasp as she pressed her journal to her chest and gently pushed the dog away. The dog then began to shake causing its dripping brown and white hair to shower Clarke in salty droplets of the oceans water. 

She let out a small shriek before genuinely laughing as she pet the dogs wet head with an affectionate gaze. It was then that she heard the obvious owner calling the Border Collies name through their own midst of laughter. 

"Donny!" A man called, his voice sounding modulated, deep and oddly familiar. 

With a quick glance upwards Clarke spotted a figure, shirtless and tan briskly walking up the beach towards her. His black curls bounced around characteristically as that lazy smirk spread across his lips. When he spoke again her suspicions were confirmed.

"C'mere boy." 

The dog ran back towards the man but Clarke was already on her feet, a big smile plastered across her face and hope in her eyes. 

"Sorry if he bothered you," he spoke, genuinely apologetic. "He's a little energetic." 

But Clarke couldn't have cared less if she now smelled faintly of wet dog, because her best friend's brother was now currently standing two feet away from her. "Bellamy goddam Blake," she laughed, shaking her head gently as she reminisced. "Still here after all these years." 

For a moment he stared blankly at the blonde standing in front of him. It was kinda awkward really, you'd think after a decade you'd still be able to remember a girl who was at his house every other weekend. But then Clarke saw it. His eyes widened as it finally clicked in that pretty little mind of his. 

"Clarke fucking Griffin." 

It was only a matter of seconds before his strong arms were wrapped around her small frame and she was lifted off the ground. 

"You haven't changed one bit," she breathed gently into his shoulder before he placed her back down again. "You look exactly like you did in high school." 

He laughed, the bewilderment still evident in his eyes as his gaze traveled all across her ecstatic facial features. His eyes were exactly like she remembered them, dark and wise yet always so soft and understanding. They broke her then fixed her in just a few untimely blinks. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes bigger then the setting sun. 

She laughed and waited for his reaction after she spoke her reply. "My friend and I are renting a place not too far from here. Moved in today actually." 

"No way!" he exclaimed excitedly before his eyes squinted and he turned his head quizzically. "Shouldn't you be unpacking?" 

Clarke gave a breathless laugh in reply before shrugging. "A girl needs a break sometimes." 

He shot back a smirk before watching as Clarke knelt down and began stroking the dog that lay at her feet. "You've got yourself a charmer Blake," she smiled up at him before his flirtatious pup rolled onto his back and stuck his tongue out of his mouth, his signature move for melting everyone's hearts. "It's Donny, isn't it?

"Yeah," he spoke quietly, crouching down beside her, catching a glance at the smiling blonde while all her attention was focused on the pup. "Poseidon, but Donny for short." 

"You're still into Greek Mythology then," she smirked. 

That's how she'd always remembered Bellamy. Black framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, sipping a can of soda while her and Octavia sat opposite him, listening intently as he told them stories about God's, The Minotaur and the occasional story about Cerberus. 

He mirrored her facial expression as he caught sight of the journal that lay by his side. "Still into art then," he pondered, flipping the page to expose her recent sketch more clearly. "They're a little more x-rated," his eyes immediately drawn to the very detailed breasts she had drawn, "but they're sill as amazing as I remember." 

That's how he had remembered Clarke. A charcoal pencil tucked behind her ear and her lip getting excessively chewed by her teeth. Her signature, tatty and worn out overalls always storing a small journal in its front pocket while she stomped around in dark green combat boots that always seemed a little bigger than her feet needed. 

Clarke gave him a small grin, their eyes locking for what seemed like minutes until Clarke finally looked away when she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. 

"I should probably get back," she whispered. "I've got a night of unpacking to look forward to." 

She began to rise to her feet and Bellamy followed suit, standing opposite her with a soft smile. Realisation suddenly struck him as he shook his head. "O doesn't know you're here, does she?" 

Clarke shook her head in reply and chuckled. "I honestly didn't know if she still lived here or not." 

It sounded vague, perhaps a little selfish but it was honestly the truth. She needed an escape from her old life and she honestly didn't plan for it to happen this fast, so it couldn't be helped if she had no idea if her childhood friends were still around. 

"Look," he spoke. "I'm having a little get together at my place tonight. Just dinner and drinks with a couple of friends, but O's gonna be there and I know she'd love it if you could come. You could bring your friend too."

Clarke could've protested but she couldn't pass down the offer of free food. She hadn't changed one bit. The promise of food was always going to get Clarke Griffin to agree on almost anything. Plus the idea of searching through dozens of boxes just to find the pasta and strainer seemed like too much of a hassle. "That actually sounds amazing," she smiled, absolutely delighted. "What time?" 

"7:30 sound good?" He asked with a chuckle, already getting joy of just thinking about seeing his little sisters reaction after all these years of missing her best friend. 

After all other arrangements were made it was decided that she'd be surprising an unsuspecting Octavia at 7:30 in the house they grew up in. The house whose backyard was on this very beach.

She gave him another big smile and an even larger hug, feeling his well toned abdominal muscles hit her firmly in the stomach. "It's great to see you again Bellamy," she managed to breathe. 

When she pulled away she couldn't help but linger in his gaze a little longer then was necessary. Damn Bellamy Blake and his goddamn beautiful genes, she thought helplessly. Had he always been attractive? She couldn't help but drop a final glance at his deliciously well toned abdominal area, which was unfortunately caught out by the man who owned them. 

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, knowing damn well what she was doing before giving her a small wink. 

"Don't flatter yourself Blake," she teased, giving him a light push on the shoulder as she bent down to pick up her things. "I was looking at the dog." Using Donny, who currently lay at her feet for an excuse. 

"I knew that," he laughed, obviously seeing right through her attempts at a coverup. "I'll see you later then." 

As he turned to walk away she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of his ass. She knew she was slightly objectifying him, but damn, she never remembered him looking this good. He was simply Bellamy, Octavia's older brother who made a really good grilled cheese. 

Clarke turned to walk away herself when she suddenly remembered some very valid information that could maybe result in her eating anything other than salad for the rest of the night. "Bellamy!" she yelled, watching as he turned around to face her once again. “Just letting you know- I'm vegetarian." 

"Huh," he spoke, seeming a little surprised, the girl had once won a fucking hot dog eating competition. "Don't worry," he smirked, walking backwards as he continued to speak. "So is my girlfriend." 

Fuck.


	2. Day 1 Week 1 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys,
> 
> As promised here is the second chapter. Hope you all enjoy :) xox

**Day 1 Week 1 Part 2**

 

Clarke shoved her shoulder against the creaky white painted door of her new residence before it eventually swung open, causing her to land with a thud on the even creakier wooden floor. The house itself was adorable, albeit its assets were a little faulty. The pale blue victorian style cottage was situated in the tiny cul-de-sac of Weather Lane, a lane in which maple trees lined the sidewalks, showering the road in crunchy, fiery orange leaves that moved as a collective in the wind. A white picket fence surrounded the front yard of number 4, and under the window sills housed flower pots which spilled dark green leaves over the edges of the terracotta. The cottage reminded her of something that belonged in the fairytale storybooks she use dream of being a part of during her childhood, a dream long outgrown. 

Upon immediately opening the front door Clarke was met with a small living room in which a dozen of scattered unopened boxes lay, just waiting to be unpacked. With a frustrated sigh Clarke pushed herself up onto her feet. Packing she could deal with, it was the unpacking she dreaded.

“Clarke,” a familiar voice called from the small hallway, a voice which sounded slightly frustrated in tone. “Where the hell have you been?”

Clarke’s feet led her to one of two bedrooms and upon standing in the doorway noticed her friend laying face down on a bare mattress. They had sold basically all of their furniture before moving so they didn't have to pay the fee of a removal truck, and now both were left without bed frames, a luxury Clarke never realised she would miss so much. 

“The beach,” she answered in reply, scooting in beside her friend. “I didn't have the energy to unpack.” 

Raven gave a hum in agreement before turning her head to look at Clarke. “We’ll start tomorrow.” Though that was hard to believe, they were both exhausted from the chaos of the spontaneous move and the chances of actually fully unpacking by the end of the week were very slim. 

Sitting up, Raven reached for her phone, typing in something quickly before scrolling. “Ok Miss Runaway, what are we having for dinner? There’s Italian, Chinese, Thai or Aunt Anne’s Diner.”

Aunt Anne’s - Clarke hadn't thought about that place in years. She had spent many afternoons sipping their old school vanilla milkshakes during her youth. She wondered if they still tasted like heaven. 

“I use to love that place,” Clarke smiled lazily, leaning her head on her hand and closing her eyes. “But we've been invited to dinner.” 

“Made friends already?” Raven smiled suggestively, perking up a little. Give Raven some social interaction and the promise of alcohol and she’d succumb to anything. 

Clarke laughed and ruffled her friends silky brown hair. “More like friends I made twenty years ago.” She stood, but not before smacking a loud kiss to Raven’s forehead. “Have a shower, we leave in an hour.”

Words could not express the love she has for Raven Reyes. Nobody else but her would agree to partake in a crazy adventure such as moving across the country with a girl she’d only known for a year and a half. 

“We have no hot water,” Raven called out after Clarke. Adding, “I’ll fix it tomorrow,” after a pause. 

“Perfect,” Clarke called back.

A perfectly faulty house for their perfectly faulty lives. 

 

———————

 

“How do I look?” Clarke asked, tugging on her sky navy blue parka, a habit she found herself doing when something was clouding her mind. She couldn't help it really. She had was always been an over thinker. 

“Beautiful,” Raven spoke, looping her arm through her friends. “Quit stressing.”

“I’m not stressing,” Clarke mumbled even though she definitely was. She hadn't seen her childhood best friend in a decade. What if she’d changed. What if her own self had changed. What if they didn't get along like they use to when they were growing up.

They walked the quiet streets of the sleepy town of Weatherly in relative silence, Clarke taking in the familiar streets she use to own and wondering if the same people lived in the same houses after all these years. She use to run across their yards, skate on their sidewalks, steal the fruit from their fruit trees. Now they were all strangers. Thanks Mom and Dad. 

“So this Bellamy guy,” Raven started as they rounded the corner onto Baker Avenue. “Is he cute?”

“Don’t bother,” Clarke sighed. “I mean he’s gotten hot as fuck, but apparently taken.” 

She should've come home sooner.

“And Octavia? What was she like growing up?” 

“Wild,” Clarke shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe she's calmed down in her old age.”

Though that was doubtful. Octavia Blake would always be wild down to the very core. As a child she had enough energy to power the whole town. Octavia’s mother fought to brush her daughters hair for the first five years of her life before eventually giving up. Instead it stay cropped at her shoulders to keep it from getting excessively mangled from all the adventures they use to have. More often than not grime accumulated on her tanned skin, her fingernails housed enough dirt to grow a small veggie patch and her feet were always bare. She dressed in oversized jumpers and patched up jeans, a trend she tried pushing onto the other kids in the neighbourhood, though it was only Clarke that took it on. 

They continued walking for another minute or so until they neared the Blake house and all the air left Clarke’s lungs. The house hadn't changed one bit. It was strange, being there again after so long. Despite how long she’d been away, she still remembered everything about the place; the blue hydrangeas planted in the front yard, the soft tinkling of the wind chimes that reminded her of summer afternoons. The wood had faded and aged since she'd last seen it, but she still recognised it. Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the dark wooden structure. The garden was flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. From the rafters swung a familiar porch swing, the seat decorated with various cushions and throws to help its sitters deal with the cold seaside air. Dim lit lanterns basked the exterior in a warm glow as the sound of soft music could be heard from the pathway echoing inside the house. This was what she remembered, a house she knew so well.

“This it?” Raven asked, eyes roaming the residence. 

Clarke gave a quick nod before making her way down the path and up the three steps to the porch. There was a slight hint of nervousness in her stomach but it was overpowered by a newfound excitement. This was it.

She lifted her hand and knocked on the solid wood, they waited for a few seconds and then they heard it. 

“Who the hell could that be?” 

Such a warm welcome.

“Harper?” a male voice enquired.

“Wouldn’t be. Angie has a fever.”

“Murphy and Emori?” another questioned.

“They’re in Maryland you idiot.”

“Well, we don't have anymore fucking friends.”

“And who the hell knocks?”

“Shhhh, everyone shut up,” a voice roared above the rest. “It could be a murderer.”

“Just go open the fucking door O,” a voice shot back. Bellamy's definitely Bellamy’s.

A disgruntled sigh drifted from under the crack in the door before footsteps could be heard approaching. There was a pause, then the door swung open and suddenly there she was. 

Her hair was longer and in a messy ponytail, but she was still as natural and beautiful as Clarke had always remembered her. The Blake frowned for a total of two seconds before she started to scream, most likely bursting the eardrums of anyone in a five mile radius. The next few seconds were a blur. Clarke’s brain cleared when she gasped for air and registered she was on the floor. There was an immense weight crushing her chest and the words “Clarke” and “Fucking” and “Griffin” were getting repeated at a speed unknown to man. 

“Hey O,” Clarke managed to wheeze after she had caught her breath. “Long time no see.”

When she was finally dragged to her feet she was pulled into another bone crushing hug by the girl with wildness coursing through her veins. She smelled of coconut, jasmine and home.

“What are you doing here?” Octavia grinned, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling back to look her friend in the face. Her green eyes sparkled with joy, glassing slightly. Her smile was infectious and wide, exactly as Clarke remembered. 

“I believe we were invited to dinner by the man you call your brother,” Clarke laughed, pushing her hair over her shoulder before it had the chance to fall in front of her eyes. 

“I mean here here,” Octavia sighed breathlessly. “In Weatherly.” Her eyes finally landed upon the brunette next to her childhood friend and she smiled a warm, welcoming smile. “Hi! I’m Octavia, call me O.”

Good to know she was still easily distracted. 

“I’m Raven,” smiled the brunette before she too was pulled into a hug. 

“The Princess has moved back,” a warm voice suddenly spoke.

There was only one person who ever called her that.

Clarke turned to find Bellamy Blake standing in the doorway. His hair was looking significantly less windswept then it did on the beach and now, sadly, he was wearing a shirt. Thick framed glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose and he used a finger to push them up further before wrapping an arm around Clarke in their own second reunion of sorts. “Ain’t that cool.”

Clarke grinned, melting a little as she basked in his body heat. 

“You’re kidding,” Octavia breathed, switching from foot to foot quickly in her own little celebratory dance. “Fuck.” 

There was a parade of introductions/smaller reunions that followed. 

Monty Green and Jasper Jordan were in the grade below her and Octavia but she remembered them none-the-less. They were aways being awarded with all things to do with science. Their names were in the newspaper, most of the time for a successful invention or discovery and one time for accidentally blowing up an abandoned shed in the middle of the woods. She didn't know much about them, but they welcomed her with hugs anyway. 

As did the others. 

Maya Vie was Jasper’s girlfriend, a woman of frizzy midnight black hair and pale olive skin. She was significantly shyer than the rest of the delinquent bunch, laying to the outskirts of the crowd simply taking in the atmosphere, laughing quietly at jokes but choosing not to contribute to most conversations. She looked somewhat troubled. Clarke wanted to know the reason why. Maybe she’d find out someday. 

Then there was Miller, probably the most chilled out of everyone. Clarke remembered Miller. He and Bellamy became friends when Miller and his dad moved to Weatherly two years before Clarke left. He’d hang around the Blake’s after school sometimes, doing his homework on the dining room table or playing video games into the early hours of the morning with a very competitive Bellamy. He was cool. Clarke liked Miller. “Hey there Griffin,” he smiled when she saw him, pulling her in for a one armed hug. “Good to have you back.”

A very excited Octavia introduced Lincoln next. He was the pure definition of tall, dark and handsome. He was armed with buff muscles that were accentuated by his tight fitting button down and an abundance of tattoos that stretched across his arms and up his neck. He was the type of guy who would be considered intimidating if it wasn't for the illuminating smile that never seemed to leave his lips. She clicked with Lincoln almost instantly.

There was Wick (a distant cousin of Bellamy and Octavia's), who was taken to Raven the minute he laid eyes her. “Give it a rest,” Clarke heard her friend tell the young man during dinner. Raven was not one to succumb to flirty remarks easily. “He’s a dickhead,” Octavia announced after he went outside for a drag of his cigarette. “But he’s family." 

And then there was Gina Martin, the woman with the man. To hate her upon meeting was completely wrong, but there was a strong dislike towards the completely harmless girl. She chatted with Clarke easily, and had such a warm smile. She even offered to help unpack. Goddamn her kindness. Her auburn curls where a perfect match to Bellamy’s black, and it was clear to see how in love she was with him. She’d find any excuse to kiss him, whether that be on the cheek or the lips. And Bellamy would simply laugh and smile, pulling her quickly into his arms before letting her go. 

Clarke envied their relationship. Every relationship she had revolved around quick fucks, dodgy restaurant dates and secrecy. She had been the other woman. Never was she paraded around and shown off to friends, never did she enjoy easy touches and spontaneous kisses. She was just a whisper of a name with no importance. Merely Clarke Griffin, nothing special about her. Finn Collins was a massive dick with an average dick. 

Lexa Woods on the other hand was different. Clarke loved Lexa, and for a while, Lexa loved Clarke. Things were starting to look up. Then, as always, everything came crashing down. She didn't like to think about it all that much. The wound was still partially fresh. 

Dinner was a success. Afterwards were when things got difficult.

“Look at you little cuties,” Jasper squeaked as he picked up a photo to examine it even further. 

It was only a matter of time before the dreaded family albums were dragged from their shoeboxes and dumped onto the coffee table for all to marvel at. But Clarke hadn't expected for them to make an appearance so early in the night, especially with such little alcohol buzzing through everyones systems. Clarke needed more alcohol in her system if she was going to get through this. Yet here they were, three decent sized albums yeah slot filled with captured memories of the Blake/Griffin childhood. 

With a swig of her cider Clarke soldiered a brave face and took the photo from Jasper’s outstretched hand. 

Reminiscing wasn't Clarke’s favourite pastime, especially when even the happiest of her memories could turn to the darkest of ones in a stray thought. So she swallowed hard, kept her features neutral and forced herself to look upon the small picture. 

It showed two giggling seven year olds splashing aimlessly through the breaking waves of Arkadia beach. It was her and Octavia, their skin golden from endless days in the summer sun, hair damp, tangled and clinging to their skin as they wore matching lavender bathing suits that they never wanted to take off. They both looked so happy, so full of joy and laughter. Pity it would have to end just years later. 

With a small smile Clarke put it down on the edge of the coffee table before yet another way pushed her way, this time by Monty. 

In this photo they were a little older, ten maybe eleven at the most, with the addition of another familiar face. Bellamy, Octavia and herself were all crammed onto a park bench, dripping ice cream cones in hand and skin sticky from the mess. After all the years Clarke could still remember their go to orders. For Octavia- peanut butter with rainbow sprinkles, for Bellamy it was always cookies and cream with chocolate syrup and for Clarke wild strawberry with slivered almonds. Every time without fault that was what they ordered. 

They were all smiling but Clarke’s was a little crooked. She still remembered why. 

12 years ago:

Clarke like to consider herself a tough kid. If there was a class member that made fun of her best friends absent father you could be sure Clarke was there, fists flying or words spitting as she threatened the guilty party. If there was a particularly sad movie on the TV Clarke wouldn't shed a tear, even if the dog died, the ship sunk or Octavia was a blubbering mess beside her. She’d even laugh when Bellamy’d take off his glasses, swipe his sleeve across his damp cheek and call her “heartless.” That’s just the way things were. 

But this was different. 

With a heavy hand Clarke knocked on the mahogany front door of 11 Haven Road and wiped her tear stricken cheeks with the heels of her hands. 

She didn't have to be tough here.

She knew that.

It took only a few seconds before the door swung open and a smiling, dishevelled Aurora Blake appeared. The smile quickly faded when she saw Clarke’s state, but with brown eyes full of patience and a heart full of love she enveloped Clarke in one of her signature warm hugs. She smelled of freshly baked bread and jasmine, a scent that reminded Clarke of what mothers should smell like. Her own mother smelt of disinfectant and sterility, a scent that had never comforted her. 

“They’re fighting again.” 

Aurora pulled back and only nodded before standing abruptly. She grabbed her coat, ruffled Clarke’s hair then waltzed to the bottom of the stairway before calling out:

“Bell, O. Clarke’s here. We’re getting ice-cream. I assume you're both coming.”

Thundering footsteps echoed through the small house before the siblings appeared on the landing, smiling and breathless.

“Hey Clarke,” they both spoke in unison, running down the stairs to meet their friend. 

Aurora laughed before she herded the children out of the house. “Ice-cream would raise you two from the dead.”

And so they walked down the windy autumn beach and headed towards the pier. Things were never that bad when Clarke had an ice-cream in her hand and the Blake’s in her company.

Clarke swallowed the lump that had unknowingly formed in her throat and passed the photo onwards. It was all a little too much, especially not knowing the whereabouts of the woman who had such a big influence on her life. Never would she dare to ask. The thought of Aurora Blake being in a gravesite somewhere broke her heart. A woman like that didn't deserve to die. And yet in the whole time Clarke had been here there hadn't been a single word about the woman. When shown photo’s of her the Blake siblings just seemed to smile, not sadly but not enough to interpret their feelings. So where the hell was she?

Clarke faked a smile and distanced herself, scooting her ass to sit further back in the brown leather couch. She brought the cider bottle to her lips and closed her eyes, trying her hardest to focus on the carbonation of the bubbles that danced on her tongue and not on the people around her. They were all laughing, smiling, occasionally catching glimpses of themselves in photos taken at their elementary school but all Clarke felt was numbness. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Being here, reminding herself of those bittersweet memories.

Clarke downed the last of her cider believing her facade that everything was fine had worked. That was until with unfortunate luck she opened her eyes and met the gaze of Bellamy Blake. He sat on the couch opposite her, his left arm lazily around his girlfriend while his right hand held a photo he wasn’t looking at. He was looking at her. 

One blink and she knew he’d seen right through her. She swallowed hard. 

Beside him Gina held a photo out to him, nudging his shoulder to grab his attention. He didn’t acknowledge her. When she realised he was preoccupied she looked across the room to spot his distraction. 

Clarke Griffin. 

One look at Gina, another back at Bellamy and Clarke was up on her feet walking towards the hallway. “Excuse me,” she managed, placing her empty bottle in the trash can. “I’ll be right back.” 

Her feet carried her to the bathroom. She closed the door quickly behind her before grabbing the sink tightly enough to make her knuckles turn white. Her lungs expanded with a shuddering breath before the newly exchanged carbon dioxide left her lips. 

What the hell was she doing?

It was like she was on a balance beam, wobbling excessively but fighting to keep herself from having a complete nervous breakdown. The town of Weatherly and its inhabitants helped her create some of her best memories and yet it created some of the worst as well. 

She finally opened the door after an excessively long time contemplating escaping out the window. 

And of course, standing there, leaning against the wall opposite was Bellamy fucking Blake.

“Hey there Princess,” he smiled softly, a curly lock of hair falling in front of his eyes. “O and I are craving some ice-cream. You coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you are you beautiful people I hope you are all intrigued. Thank you so much for reading and a big thank you to the people who left an abundance of kudos and comments last week! You guys are all amazing and your support means a lot. 
> 
> As always if you enjoyed please hit that kudos button and why not comment while you’re down there. I’m always open to feedback, constructive criticism and thoughts and I just absolutely love hearing from you all. 
> 
> Endless love,
> 
> \-- Zoey


	3. Day 1 Week 1 Part 3

An overly energetic Donny ran through the shallows ahead of the trio as they trudged down the beach, their hands secured tightly in their pockets. It was Autumn in Weatherly, and Autumn meant strong winds, cold air and leaves scattering almost every spare piece of pavement. It’s not like Clarke minded however. She knew these Autumn winds. She grew up with these Autumn winds. 

“Why’d you come back, Clarke?” Octavia asked quietly, the wind catching in her hair before turning to her brother when she realised he was shooting her a death glare. A glare that signified that maybe she shouldn't have asked such a question. “I’m not trying to be rude, Bell. I’m just wondering.”

“I know,” Clarke smiled softly. “I get it.” She paused then, “Some part of me always knew I’d come back. I hated living in Seattle and I hated my mom for dragging me there. I always thought about running away and coming back here. I did actually try once, when we first moved. I made it one stop on the train before the guilt struck. But I guess that’s kinda what I’m doing now - running away from it all.”

“But you're staying, right?” Bellamy asked, something in his voice that sounded like worry. His brow was furrowed and although he wasn't looking at her, she could see the panic. “You’re not gonna go all nomadic on us, are you? No apology note left on the kitchen counter?”

A small smile reached Clarke’s lips. “No,” she announced calmly even though she wasn't feeling it. “I’m staying.”

She felt an arm weave through hers and found the other Blake at her side looking part relieved, part anguished. “Good,” Octavia laughed softly. “We weren't planning on letting you go again. We've missed you too much, Griffin.”

They sat at the end of the pier, huddled closely together with their feet swinging absentmindedly above the churning sea. The wind caused them to erupt in goosebumps and the addition of ice cream wasn’t exactly a smart solution to the problem. However, despite the cold, they were determined. 

A smile had formed on Clarke’s shivering lips when Bellamy approached the ice cream stand and asked, “Are you still obsessed with those horrible little nuts?”

“They’re called almonds, Bellamy,” she laughed as she pushed him towards the counter. “And yes. They still happen to be my favourite.”

He muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Weirdo,” under his breath but none-the-less managed to present her with her favourite flavour combination of happiness in a cone, a bright smile on his face as he did so. He still remembered her order after all these years. 

Strawberry with slivered almonds.

She licked at where the strawberry had began to drip before resting her heavy head on Octavia’s shoulder. Her hand reached out and pet Clarke’s head affectionately as they both stared out into the dark horizon of the stretching ocean, sighing contentedly as they did so. 

It was all very nostalgic. You'd think ten years apart would cause people to drift, cause them to become strangers. But things with the Blake’s had basically taken off exactly where things were left. Around them she was comfortable. Around them she was home.

After a time of prolonged silence Clarke stretched her legs out in front of her and heard a laugh bellowing from Bellamy’s direction. 

“Nice boots,” he nodded at her footwear before taking a lick at his ice-cream. “Your fashion sense hasn't changed either.” 

On her feet were her favourite pair of combat boots, a pair she’d owned since she was seventeen. They were terribly scuffed at the toes, and the laces were beginning to fray. But she just couldn't bring herself to part with them. 

“Mom threw out my green ones when we were packing to leave,” Clarke pouted, clicking her feet together. The pair she hardly ever took off during her last years in Weatherly. She found them in a retro store when she was ten and decided to buy them using money she had stolen from her mom’s purse.

“Hey,” Octavia commented, giving her friends shoulder a nudge, “at least they’re black. They'll go with everything.”

Clarke burst out laughing. When she was younger fashion was the last thing on her mind. She distinctly remembered arguing with her mother on Christmas morning. Abby had forced eleven year old Clarke into a pale blue dress, fought her wild blonde curls into an extremely elegant updo and even forced her to wear pearls around her neck. But, even with copious amounts of begging and bribes there was no way Clarke was going to wear any other shoes. 

“You know when you left I made Bellamy drive me to the thrift store to buy myself a pair. I know I always told you I hated them, and that I couldn't be bothered with shoes, but they reminded me of you. I missed you and those stupid shoes gave me comfort.”

The best friends smiled sadly at one another before they were draped in a one armed hug. The move had affected everyone, but Clarke and Octavia the most. From being to basically inseparable to tragically apart in a blink of an eye is a hard thing to deal with when you're twelve.

The moment they shared however was completely forgotten when Bellamy’s phone began to ring. 

He held it in his hand as it continued to buzz but he only stared blankly at it. The screen read unknown number but the way Bellamy’s face finally fell it was clear he already knew who it was. 

“Who is it?” Octavia asked, too far away to see.

Silence.

Then, “It’s Mom.” He seemed to internally fight himself as to wether or not he should answer it. Eventually he gave in, swiping right. He stood, shrugged a shoulder in apology before walking away to chat in privacy, though he didn't seem all that happy about it. 

But it was a good thing, right? Clarke spent most of the night believing Aurora might've been dead. 

She clearly wasn’t. 

It was a good sign. 

That was until she turned to Octavia and saw the pain etched in the creases of her forehead.

“She hasn't called in a while.”

Clarke nodded, though she wasn't really sure why. “I’ve been meaning to ask where she is,” she spoke cautiously, obviously knowing she was treading on thin ice. 

A humourless laugh escaped Octavia’s lips. “We don’t fucking know.” Then softer, “She ran out on us. Only reason she calls now is if she's drunk, needs money, It’s our birthday or she’s relapsing.” 

Clarke tried and failed to hide her shock. Aurora, in Clarke’s young eyes, was the kind of mother she always wanted. She baked fresh bread, had a heart made of gold, easily laughed and always helped those in need. Her love for her children had been infinite and she had swore to never let anything bad ever happen to them. So upon hearing she had suddenly turned deadbeat and off the rails ultimately came as a surprise. 

Clarke believed wholeheartedly that her life went even more down hill following her departure from Weatherly, but apparently she wasn't alone. The Blake’s, as it seems, struggled to cope with the harshness of this cruel world as well. 

“O,” Clarke sighed sympathetically, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she replied quietly. “It’s not your fault. It’s my fucking father’s.” 

Clarke knew that Bellamy and Octavia had different father’s. Bellamy’s died in a car accident three days shy from his first birthday. To cope with her loss Aurora Blake began dating a series of bums just hoping—make that praying, that she could find a man just half as good and kind as the man she was still in love with. 

She never did. 

But boyfriend number four resulted in the birth of Octavia Blake. And although the man who provided Aurora with her daughter was a complete and utter disaster she wouldn't trade it for the world. Because that horrible man with his unfixable issues brought her a child that took the burden off her own troubles. 

“He showed up one night and Bell answered the door. They started fighting about something,” Octavia spoke. “Bellamy doesn't like talking about it but um- Mom and I ran downstairs to find the bastard pinning Bell up against the wall. I was so scared he was gonna kill him, there was something in his eye that- I don't know, I just knew that if I hadn't have intervened he probably would’ve. And his attention drifted so easily. One minute he was threatening to break Bellamy’s neck and the next he was telling me how grown up I looked and how much he regretted not being there for me.” 

“Holy Shit,” Clarke barely managed to breathe. 

“Yeah, and Mom was no help whatsoever,” she continued. “She just stood there in silence and watched the whole thing unravel. Her own son couldn't breathe, her daughter was trying to calm this lunatic down and all she could do was stand there.”

Bellamy started raise his voice further down the pier but Octavia seemed unfazed. She only continued.

“Eventually the guy left but Mom wasn't the same afterwards. She claimed whenever she went outside he was there, following her. Things got so bad she refused to leave the house. That’s when she started relying on alcohol. She’d get drunk every night and whenever Bell or I tried to cut her off she’d get violent. We tried getting her the help she needed but she refused.” 

Clarke reached out and clasped Octavia’s hand in hers. 

“We woke up one morning and she’d gone. All she left was some crappy little apology letter and a couple of hundred bills on the kitchen counter.” 

_’No apology letter on the kitchen counter.’_ Bellamy didn't want her to run out on him like his mother did.

The Blake wiped a tear with her free hand and let out a sigh. 

“Anyway, it’s coming on eight years ago now. I’ve gotten over it.”

Clarke did the quick math in her head. “You were fourteen,” she breathed. “How the hell did you and Bellamy deal with something like that?”

Octavia shrugged. “The house was already paid off. Bell got legal guardianship of me, he also worked three jobs in addition to night school just so we could pay the bills. The amount of things he gave for me, the things he went without just so I could have - I feel like I have to spend the rest of my life just trying to pay him back.”

Octavia and Bellamy always had this sibling bond Clarke never had the chance to experience. A small part of her felt almost jealous.

Clarke had a look over her shoulder and found Bellamy slouched on a nearby bench. His fingers were running themselves through his dark windswept hair as listened intently to his mother on the other line. He looked completely exhausted, as if he'd done this too many times before. 

“Bellamy’s more lenient with her,” Octavia spoke softly. “She doesn't call me anymore.”

Clarke stared at Bellamy a few moments longer before he caught her. He held her gaze as he began to answer a question his Mom had asked him. “And how are you planning on getting there?”

He sighed. “No. One cheque a year.” Another pause, then, “Because we need the money here, Mom.”

Clarke’s eyes lowered before she turned back to Octavia.

“Do you miss her?”

Octavia turned quiet, thinking deeply before, “I use too. Not anymore. I think Bellamy still does though. He talks about her in his sleep sometimes.”

Clarke remembered how close Bellamy had been with his mother. It must’ve broke his heart when she left. It was breaking her own heart hearing all of this now.

“I’ve missed out on so much,” Clarke breathed softly, eyes roaming the stretch of sea. “I should've come back sooner.”

Octavia gave her a soft smile. “You’re here now though. Just stick around and you won’t miss out on anything else. 

Clarke gave a hum in agreement. “That’s the plan.” 

When they finally got back to the house it was just going past 10. Raven was laid out sleepily on an armchair while the rest of the group were scattered around her, eyes all fixated on some scary movie that was playing obnoxiously loud on the TV. 

“You ready to go?” Clarke mouthed to her friend who only nodded in reply before dragging herself from her seat to her feet. 

As she did so, Clarke noticed Bellamy approach Gina, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s shoulders as she sat on the couch next to Miller. He whispered something in her ear before her face fell ever so slightly and she turned towards him. 

He must’ve told her about his Mom. 

The auburn haired girl asked him a question to which he only shrugged in reply, slightly standoffish in attitude.

“We’re gonna head home,” Clarke announced suddenly, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Thanks for dinner and it was great seeing you all again.”

“You know you're welcome here anytime,” Octavia smiled, pulling her into a hug. “Don’t even call. No one usually does anyway.” 

“Thanks O,” Clarke breathed into her shoulder before pulling away. 

“Doubt you'll be seeing much of us this week though,” Raven added with a shrug. “Griffin and I got some unpacking to do.”

“Hard to unpack when you don't have any furniture,” Clarke retorted. “I think we’ll be having a Craigslist hunting party tomorrow.”

“No furniture?” Bellamy asked with a frown, suddenly standing at her side. “No beds?”

“We have mattresses,” Clarke shrugged nonchalantly. “We’ll manage.”

“Nonsense,” Bellamy argued. “You guys can stay here tonight. We have a guest bedroom.” 

It’s not like Aurora needed a room anymore. 

“And you can actually shower,” Wick called from his seat. “Wrench Monkey was telling me you guys don't have any hot water.”

Wrench Monkey? Clarke turned to Raven and saw her smirk. Oh, ok then. 

“Fuck yeah! I love sleepovers!” Octavia squealed as she grabbed Raven by the hand and began to pull her up the stairs. The brunette barely managed a “goodnight everyone,” before she was being pushed into Octavia’s room to borrow some clothes. A muffled, “And in the morning I’m making waffles!” could be heard before everyone started to laugh. Octavia did a surprisingly good Eddie Murphy imitation. 

Clarke lingered. 

“I’d be happy to lend you my truck when you find some stuff,” Bellamy spoke, running his hand through his hair. He did that a lot. “And we’ll all help you guys get settled in. Won’t we?” 

A collective group of “yeahs” came from the living room and that brought a smile to Clarke’s lips.

“Thanks. We’d really appreciate the help.”

Bellamy’s eyes were so warm as he nodded. “What are friends for?”

Clarke’s face softened. She knew she missed the Blake’s, but being here made her realise just how much. 

“Thanks for tonight,” Clarke spoke softly, this time directed only for him. “I needed it.”

He smiled, and Clarke felt the urge to go in for a hug but looking over his shoulder she stopped herself. 

She was being watched. 

Instead she reached out and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before saying her goodnights to the group and heading upstairs, avoiding the gaze of someone in particular. 

After changing into a pair of red flannel pyjama pants and an oversized jumper, Clarke stood in front of the upstairs bathrooms basin and brushed her teeth with a spare toothbrush Octavia had found. 

She was going over all the new information she had found out earlier, not really paying attention to her surroundings. Apparently Aurora had called looking for some more money, soon realising Bellamy wasn't going to give in she’d hung up without a goodbye.

How could someone do that to their own child? 

And to Clarke that sounded extremely out of character. Aurora use to be the kind of mother that said ‘I love you,’ whenever her children left the house. It was like routine, something about worrying that if she’d never saw them again at least they'd know she loved them. 

Hanging up without even saying goodbye? That had to hurt. 

Snapping out of her own little world she spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth before looking in the mirror and discovering that it was perfectly positioned to see Bellamy’s room down the hall. Two figures were standing by his door, Bellamy and Gina, engrossed in a murmured conversation. 

Clarke turned to leave and began walking towards the guest room when she suddenly saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks. Gina went in for a kiss, a pretty natural thing to do with a boyfriend, but before their lips could even touch Bellamy turned his head and instead she planted a kiss firmly on his cheek. 

He had shut her down. 

Clarke stood there frozen and watched as Bellamy walked further into the room and out of sight. Gina only sighed and grabbed at the door handle, pulling the door closed. She stopped however when she saw Clarke, a small frown forming on her brow. 

“Uhh-,” Clarke began awkwardly. “G’night.” 

“G’night Clarke,” Gina spoke softly in reply. “Sleep well.” She closed the door the rest of the way shut. 

Clarke couldn’t sleep that night. Around one she woke up a softly snoring Raven that lay at her side just to ask; “What do you think of Gina?”

“Go to sleep,” Raven mumbled, turning to lay on her back. When she realised Clarke wasn’t making a move to however she just groaned before answering; “She seems cool. Wouldn’t shut up about her extremely attractive boyfriend though.”

“Huh,” Clarke sighed, secretly satisfied with Raven’s answer. 

Bellamy, Octavia and her had spoken about a lot of things that night on the way back from the pier, including Octavia gushing over her perfect boyfriend. And yet, not once did Bellamy mention Gina. 

Perhaps this love they had was merely one sided.

A girl could dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. 
> 
> So I know it’s been a while and I’m so so so so sorry but honestly I think I need to establish some routine to get these chapters posted regularly. Anyway, sorry for such a short chapter. I promise to make the next one extra large for you all. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and if you enjoyed please don’t forget to comment and kudos. 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Zoey xxxxx


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